


Of Birthdays and Absent Fathers

by CobaltStargazer



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Humor, I Do Not Like William Reid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 06:30:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1930221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CobaltStargazer/pseuds/CobaltStargazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day before his birthday, Spencer gets an unexpected gift in the mail. He's not sure he wants it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Birthdays and Absent Fathers

**Author's Note:**

> This happened because I saw the two-parter with Tobias Hankel that flashes back to Reid's childhood, and I was reminded of how awful his dad is.

He'd been looking at the plain paper wrapping for ten minutes. He'd found the package in his mailbox, and he'd brought it up with the flyers and a couple of ills. The return address blew right past him at first, but now the name written in the top left corner was all he could see.

**William Reid**

He couldn't remember the last time his father had sent him a birthday present. He wasn't sure he'd even known the man _remembered_ his birthday. The package was moderately heavy, with sharp corners. Probably a book. Spencer took a deep breath, let it out slowly. His chest felt tight.

"Reid?"

Elle's voice was neutral, but she was watching him surreptitiously. Spencer had been quieter than usual since they'd gotten back from shopping. She'd seen the block lettering on the plain white paper, and he was handling it as if it were a bomb. Tomorrow was his birthday. She cleared her throat, tried again.

"Spence? You okay?"

"No, I don't think I am."

She craned her neck, looked at the words again. Her hands alighted on his shoulders, found them taut. The touch was meant to be soothing, but when he registered it he pulled away, severing the contact. "No," he said evenly, and he felt her step away from him. 

Okay, so her first instinct was wrong. _He's not fragile_ , she reminded herself. _He won't break_. Elle studied the line of Spencer's back from several steps away. She wanted to help, to shield him because she cared, but she reminded herself that he had to be ready to talk. Her mouth quirked into a sympathetic half-smile, and she left him to his thoughts.

Reid put the package down on the coffee tale, dropped his weight onto the couch with a muted sigh. He wondered if William had been in touch with Diana, and _she_ had been the one to remind him about his approaching birthday. But that was even less likely. Was it some sense of lingering guilt that had led him to reach out, and if so, what did he hoped to accomplish? It had taken a long time, but Spencer had finally acknowledged that what his mother had said all those years ago was true - his father was weak.

Although it was the middle of the day, he decided to lie down. Just thinking about this made him feel tired. He could feel the unwrapped present behind him. Even inanimate objects had a presence sometimes. In the bedroom, he closed the blinds to shut out the late-afternoon sunlight, then lay down on the bed without even taking off his shoes.

Elle was in the kitchen fixing a sandwich, and she ate it at the table after he disappeared into his room. They were supposed to go to David Rossi's tomorrow for dinner with the others. She wasn't worried about it anymore. Not even Hotch could unsettle her. She was here for Reid because he'd invited her, and the significance of that was something she had yet to really examine.

When she was finished with her light lunch, she padded quietly down the hall to Spencer's room and poked her head through the door. He was lying on the bed fully clothed. She hovered in the doorway of the dim room, half in and half out of the doorway. He turned his head, and their eyes met.

"Can I come in?"

There was a silence as he thought about it, and then he said, "Sure. I actually wouldn't mind if you'd lie down with me."

She joined him on the bed, and she didn't take her shoes off either. They lay on their backs listening to each other's breathing, and she wanted to touch him but refrained from doing so. He let out a quiet noise.

"My dad left when I was a kid. I don't know what he's doing sending me a present now."

She looked at his profile out of the corner of her eye, then turned to face him more fully. Better to let him talk than to prod. What she could see of his expression was unreadable.

"He couldn't take Mom being sick anymore. Her good days were really good, but her bad ones were..." Spencer realized Elle probably didn't know about his mother's illness, that she had left by the time the others discovered she was in that hospital. His Adam's apple moved as he swallowed. He rolled onto his side, facing away from her.

"I had to commit her once I was old enough," he said, and his voice was a monotone. "She wasn't getting better, and she couldn't take care of herself. Her schizophrenia was in control of her. She begged me not to send her away, but I did it to help her."

Should she touch him? If she tried, would he brush her off again? She yearned to give comfort, to reach for this man who was her friend and her lover. That monotone meant he was in pain. Elle shifted on the bed, and she brushed his shoulder lightly. The touch was fleeting, but he didn't pull away.

"I didn't know."

"Nobody did. We were actually working a case, and we had to get her help to solve it." Spencer laughed hollowly, and when she put her hand back on his shoulder, the warmth of her palm lingered. He let it rest there. His body was tense, but he could feel her concern seeping through.

"I did the best I could for her. Kept the house clean, got her to eat when I could, even managed to convince her to take her medication sometimes. But it wasn't enough. She needed help that I couldn't give, so I sent her away."

"Reid..."

Elle's fingers tightened briefly, then relaxed. She could feel his guilt, and she wondered what it must have cost him to keep silent for so long, She looked for the words she needed, because she didn't want to offer platitudes. She cared about him too much to use empty words.

"My dad died when I was eight. I don't know if I ever told you that. I'm not saying it's the same thing, because it's not. But for the longest time, I felt guilty because I thought he died believing I hated him, and I didn't. "

He closed his eyes, and her quiet voice was like balm on a wound he had forgotten about. "It's hereditary, you know. Schizophrenia. When I was younger, I used to worry that it would happen to me. I guess tomorrow's another sign that I've aged past the time when it could happen. I hope." He laughed again, less hollowly.

"That's a lot of birthdays to be without him."

"He didn't want to be there because she was sick. She even said that he could take me with him, and he didn't do it. So he must not have wanted me either."

"Then he's the idiot."

She said it softly, but Spencer heard the quiet urgency in her voice. It made him turn over to face her. He wished now that there was ore light so that he could see her eyes. Despite his genius IQ, the ridicule and bullying he'd gotten as a boy had left their mark on him, and that had been compounded by his fear that one day he'd start hearing voices too. His fingertips brushed Elle's jaw.

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Her certainty loosened the knot in his stomach and the tightness in his chest, and he smiled shyly. Despite the lack of illumination, his mouth found hers almost without him having to look for it. He kept it chaste, but her toes still curled . 

"I like you, Spencer Reid."

"I like you, Elle Greenaway."

"If you want me to throw that package out, I can do that. It'll be in the incinerator tonight."

He actually considered it for a minute, then shook his head. "No. Thanks, but no. I'll mark it 'return to sender' and drop it at the post office later. I won't keep it, but I won't toss it out either. He'll think I actually opened it if I throw it away."

They lay together quietly for a few minutes, and eventually he asked, "Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

"Not really. Not anymore. Tomorrow's about you, so I'll behave. At least until we're alone later."

His eyebrows went up, and his hair fell over his brow when he tipped his head. The handsome quotient was so high that she had to kiss him just once, then retreated and climbed off of the bed. He'd probably make her pay for it later, but that was weight she was happy to take on.

"I'll fix some dinner. What leftovers would you like?"

"Order a pizza instead.. I'll pay you back later."

And her presumption was right, he meant that in more ways than one.

**Author's Note:**

> More adventures. I've decided to call them Spelle. Please don't throw rocks. :-P


End file.
